


Star-crossed lovers are such a cliché, coach

by Yestoertchen



Series: I'm not your gay Yoda, Stiles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yestoertchen/pseuds/Yestoertchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Danny wonders who exactly the coach is trying to punish when he puts Greenburg on the field instead of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star-crossed lovers are such a cliché, coach

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://fuckingdeanandcastiel.tumblr.com/)

Danny suppressed a sigh, as he watched his teammates play. Unsurprisingly, the coach had taken less than kindly to skipping practise, so he and Stiles were forced to watch from the stands as they had to “earn their right to even warm the bench”. Since the bench and the stands were like 3 feet apart Danny supposed that was more a symbolic punishment but whatever. Not that Finnstock seemed all that thrilled with his punishment either, since he had made Greenburg the Goalie and that was somewhat painful to watch. 

While Danny tried to concentrate on his homework, Stiles beside him seemed determined to take up as much space as possible. He lay on his back, arms stretched above him, one leg on the bench while the other tapped some unrecognizable rhythm on the ground. 

“This is boring.” Stiles complained. Yeah no news there, Stilinski, Danny thought a little amused. They had spent more time together in the past week than perhaps their entire sophomore year combined. And once you got past the annoying front Stiles had built for himself (no doubt to keep anyone, even Scott, from uncovering the reasons for Stiles’ sometimes dark mood) he was easy to get along with. 

“Maybe you should do something productive then.”

“Danny, that’s what the government wants us to do, we can’t let them win!” the indignation in Stiles’ voice was practically palpable.

Danny laughed and turned his attention back to his homework. Stiles just kept tapping with his leg with increasing vigour. It got to a point where Danny was getting slightly annoyed by the ever-changing rhythm. So he reached over and put his hand on Stiles’ knee, effectively stopping all movements in its tracks.

“While I’m glad you have some of your nervous energy back, please don’t make me want to chop that leg off.” While they hadn’t really talked about Stiles’ semi-breakdown last week, Danny had made it a point to show that he wasn’t oblivious to Stiles’ state of mind. So while he didn’t pressure Stiles into talking about it, Stiles would know he could talk to Danny once he was ready.

Stiles sat up. “You can’t tell me you’re not bored out of your mind.”

Danny just raised one eyebrow and lifted his book to show that yes, he could entertain himself while forced to sit in the stands. Stiles snorted.

“Danny, homework would more than likely increase my boredom rather than diminish it. Besides, doing your homework is so not the point of this punishment. Aren’t we supposed to gaze longingly to the field and wish we could get our asses kicked with the others?”

As if on cue, they both turned their heads towards said field, where Isaac and Scott seemed to take great joy in tackling Ethan to the ground every time he tried to get passed them. They seemed to have singled him out today so while everyone got past them and got in one ball after the other (Greenburg seemed to have given up at this point and made himself as small as possible so as to not get hit by random balls) they zeroed in on Ethan every single time. Danny didn’t take any pleasure in watching his ex getting his ass handed to him on a platter (except he totally was).

“I don’t know about you, but I like what I see.” Stiles grinned mischievously and something told Danny, he might have something to do with the fact that Ethan couldn’t get his footing on the field today. He had told Stiles how Ethan had approached him after classes had ended yesterday, trying to “work things out”. When “working things out” had turned out to be Ethan pressing him against a locker with his hand down Danny’s pants, Danny had slammed his fist into Ethan’s face (sadly not hard enough it seems, since he was totally fine today) and had made a dash for the exit. Seriously at this point he wondered what he ever saw in the guy, he seemed to have taken the path down douche road since their break-up.

Danny had zoned out for minute and when he looked back at Stiles, the other boy wore a strange look.

“Ummmm… any particular reason, your hand’s still on my leg?”

Oh, busted. Danny smiled to cover up his embarrassment but didn’t take his hand away. 

“Well, it’s a nice leg. Both are.” God, that sounded stupid, Danny mentally slapped himself. Stiles grinned at that.

“Glad someone appreciates them. Also glad I’ve at least one thing going for me.” 

“You’ve got a great deal more going for you and you know it.”

“Yeah? Like what exactly? Feel free to be as specific as possible.”

And holy crap was Stiles flirting with him? And more importantly, was he flirting with Stiles? Granted it was all a little clumsy but Danny had to admit that tiny almost shy smile Stiles gave him was quite possibly the most endearing thing he’d ever seen.

Danny laughed and finally took his hand off Stiles’ knee. “I don’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered by your continued attempts to have your ego boosted by me.”

“Flattered, definitely flattered.”

“If you say so.” 

They turned their attention back to the field, where Ethan lay, knocked off his feet (again). From the looks of it he contemplated whether to ever get up again. That thought made Danny snort in amusement and it may be vindictive, but he didn’t feel much sympathy for his ex right now. 

“If Scott and Isaac don’t stop targeting just Ethan, the coach will have an aneurysm.”

Stiles chuckled. “They’re all big boys, they can handle it. And Ethan deserves it.”

“Maybe, but it’s still kinda mean.” Never let it be said Danny doesn’t have a good heart. He knows he’s almost too nice; he gives the impression of someone you could walk all over and wouldn’t complain about it (and maybe that’s even true at times). So OK, he probably wouldn’t have retaliated for Ethan’s treatment of him; doesn’t mean he can’t be a little gleeful that Ethan is getting his butt kicked right now.

“Mean was what I was going for.” Stiles said conversationally. “Serves him right for not keeping his dirty paws to himself.”

“You make it sound like I’m some damsel in distress and you had to defend my honour.”

“Well as long as I make you swoon.” Stiles grinned cheekily. Oh god, he’s getting pretty good at this pretty fast, Danny thought. In an attempt to distract himself from that smile (he will not start to apply poetic adjectives like brilliant or sweet or disarming or _fucking beautiful_ to that smile, no he won’t!), Danny dropped his gaze to Stiles’ hands which were fiddling with the hem of his jacket. He reached out and placed his hand over Stiles’.

“It’s like you can never sit still.” Danny murmured and grabbed one hand more securely. Contrary to his statement, Stiles had gone very, very still. His eyes were wide and he looked puzzled, like he didn’t know what to do next. The mood was changed, this wasn't just flirting, which could be mistaken for playful banter. Danny just held on loosely, letting Stiles finish processing that development. Danny kinda had jumped head-first into this as well; he wasn’t entirely sure what made him act on this (probably entirely innocent on Stiles’ part) flirtation. But hey, it wasn’t like he had jumped Stiles (they were _holding hands_ like middle schoolers for crying out loud, so why did this feel so much more intimate than every make-out session he’d ever had?), so it was entirely up to him, if he wanted Danny closer or push him away. 

Stiles let go of the hem of his jacket and took Danny’s hand, lightly massaging the palm with his thumb. Danny hadn’t noticed how cold he had gotten, but Stiles’ hands were surprisingly warm. He supposed always moving your hands around one way or another would increase circulation so there was at least one upside of Stiles’ inability to remain still for more than 3 seconds.

Danny finally lifted his gaze from their joined hands to find Stiles staring at him, a tiny little smile on his lips.

“So you do find me attractive”, Stiles mumbled.

“Yes Stiles, I do find you attractive”, Danny returned, both amused and exasperated. Of course Stiles would remember that, go figure. 

“Mahealani! Bilinski! Stop re-enacting the star-crossed lovers of whatever stupid TV show teenagers love nowadays and get your asses down here! I’m not putting up with these sad excuses of whoever they have replaced my team with any longer!”

Danny laughed a little uneasily but didn’t let go of Stiles’ hand (he refused to be embarrassed by this, screw you coach!).

“I swear to god he does that on purpose, I am at least 103% sure, that he does in fact know my name.” Stiles huffed a little disgruntled. Danny laughed again.

“Come on then, if you kick everybody’s ass on the field, he’ll sure as hell remember your name.”

“Yeah, that’s going to happen”, Stiles snorted but got up, letting go of Danny’s hand to grab his gear (and huh, Danny hadn’t expected such a sense of loss when Stiles had let go).

They made their way towards their teammates (the ones who were still standing), Danny grabbing his lacrosse stick from Greenburg. Stiles joined the opposing team replacing Ethan (who was running suicides because somehow the combined puppy eyes of Scott and Isaac had convinced the coach that he had gotten tackled to the ground three dozen times on purpose) and gave Danny one last cheeky grin.

“Don’t go easy on me just because you think I’m pretty.”

Danny wasn’t the only one laughing his ass off at that.

**Author's Note:**

> OK so the boys still haven't gotten their act together (they're getting there though) but next time around they will at least go first base, even if it kills me.


End file.
